


Presenting Her Majesty, Lady Honk Duckington the Third

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, and it's a cranky little thing, and kind of imprints on him instead of Stiles, much to Stiles' displeasure, stiles gets a duckling, who really likes Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Uuuuh…." Scott stared in surprise at the duckling poking its head out of Stiles shirt pocket. “Stiles…. do you know you’ve got a duck in your pocket?"</p><p>Placid dark eyes stared up at him, ignoring the finger stroking its head as Stiles replied, “More like duckling and yes, I know. Its <i>my</i> pocket."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Presenting Her Majesty, Lady Honk Duckington the Third

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on tumblr then you may or may not have seen [that post bout the guy who went around school with a duckling for some school project related with imprinting?](http://zerachin.tumblr.com/post/51807939456/alejis-random-devissitrhw-compiled-all-of)  
> Thanks to Kim for doing a quick read-through and for helping me on the name for the duckling.

"Uuuuh…." Scott stared in surprise at the duckling poking its head out of Stiles shirt pocket. “Stiles…. do you know you’ve got a duck in your pocket?"  


Placid dark eyes stared up at him, ignoring the finger stroking its head as Stiles replied, “More like duckling and yes, I know. Its my pocket."  


"WHY do you have a duckling in your pocket?" Scott asked, leaning in so that he could take a closer look. The yellow bird was unphased, staring back before growing bored and turning its head away to look at the locker wall.  


Stiles carefully lowered his backpack off his shoulders and into his lap, unzipping the main compartment slowly so as to not jostle the duckling. “It’s for this project. Imprinting and all."

 

The duckling peeped, high pitched and maybe a little angry at being jostled as Stiles shoved several books into his bag. “Which class?" Scott asked, bewildered at which class would allow such a project.  


"Biology. Sorry lil dude." Stiles gently patted the duckling again on its head before he hefted the bag back up. The duckling tried to bite the large finger, growing agitated when it realized that Stiles wasn’t hurt by the bite and wriggled in place.  


Eager to pet the duckling as well, Scott reached out to gently stroke down the birds beak as he asked, “Mrs. Greene let you?" The sly, almost amused expression made Scott want to laugh and groan at the same time. “She doesn’t know does she? Ow!" Scott glared down at the duck, more surprised than hurt when the duckling tried to chomp on his finger tip. “What the hell, dude!"  


"She doesn’t like her beak being touched." Stiles drawled, giving Scott a tiny nudge to get him to stand straight again. “C’mon, lets go already. Bell’s gonna ring any second."  


"It’s a she?" Scott asked, question drowned out by the loud trill of the bell.  


—  


He should have known that something was up when he saw that everyone in the room was crowded around the couch where Lydia, Scott and Stiles were seated. “What the hell’s going on?"  


Everyone’s head turned to look at him, Isaac shifting in place just enough for Derek to see that everyone’s attention was focused on. “Is that a duckling?" He asked, just a little confused why someone had brought a baby bird to the pack meeting.  


"No, it’s a fish." Stiles retorted immediately, grabbing the fuzzy, yellow bird as it attempting to waddle its way into Lydia’s lap. Derek sighed and rolled his eyes, wondering which sin, precisely, was the reason why he’d wound up with so many sarcastic people in his life. Peter was bad enough…   


He ignored Stiles’ response, stepping forward in the loose semi circle of bodies surrounding the trio seated on the blue sofa to get a closer look. “Why did you bring a duckling here?" Derek finally asked, raising an eyebrow at the angry manner in which the duckling was flapping its tiny wings at being manhandled by Stiles.  


"I kinda have to keep her with me. Ow! Stop it, Honk!" Stiles winced, waving a hand around to elivate the pain of being bitten yet again by the angry duckling. “If I want her to imprint on me then I need to take her around with me."  


Derek gave the teenager a dubious look before looking at Scott, eyebrow slightly raised in a silent question that was meant to say ‘mind translating that?’ But Scott simply shrugged, gesturing at Stiles in a ‘its exactly what he said’ kind of way that only made Derek frown harder.  


Isaac leaned to explain, “It’s an extra credit project for his Biology class." Well. At least that explained… part of the situation. Derek nodded, giving the boy’s shouder a quick pat before leaning down to stare down the duckling as it waddling up to perch on top of Stiles’ knees.  


"I still don’t understand why you’d name her ‘Honk’." Lydia chimed in, frowning heavily at the duckling’s wriggling bottom. “That’s like naming a dog ‘Woof’ or a goldfish ‘Fishie’. It’s just silly."  


He’d have to agree. He’d thought that Stiles would pick a more…unique name. Definetely something longer than Honk anyways. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it." Stiles retorted immediately. “Besides, its not  _just_ Honk. Her name is Her Majesty, Lady Honk Duckington the Third. Honk for short."  


And there it was. The name prompted a moment of confused silence, finally broken by Erica’s confused. “The Third?" Derek gave the blond girl a confused look. Really?  _That_ was what she wanted to ask about? His brain wasn’t sure what to do with the Duckington bit.  


"She was third born. Or well, hatched." Stiles answered, trying to run his finger down the duckling’s fuzzy back. The yellow bird turned its attention away from staring at Derek to glare and peck at Stiles’ finger before going back to its staring. There was something really…disconcerting, being stared at with such scrutiny by a duck. It made Derek want to lean in and show off his fangs to get it (there was  _no way_ that he was going to refer to the damn thing by its name) to stop. “Honk, come on, back in the, ow!"  


"She’s a hellion." Erica tried to hide her snickers at the glare Stiles gave her. “Maybe you could rename her to that? Little Hellion." She did seem a little too aggressive, Derek had to agree. He’d never seen a duck that was so prone to beaking anyone who tried to pet it.  


Curiosity made him stick his finger out towards the duck, his fingertip gently stroking the area above Honk’s beak. “She’s not a-!" Stiles squacked, his agitated flail making the duck wobble in place. “Just because she’s a little cranky doesn’t make her a hellion!"  


"But biting everyone who tries to touch her, kind of does." Boyd pointed out quietly, a corner of his mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. The duck in question simply closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the gentle petting that she was receiving from Derek.  


"She didn’t bite  _everyone."_ Stiles retorted, crossing his arms petulantly. “She didn’t bite Danny."  


"Yeah but, everyone likes Danny." Lydia pointed out, followed by everyone nodding in agreement. “He’d got a point. She’s bitten everyone, including you. How can you raise her properly if she doesn’t like you?"  


"She likes me plenty!" Stiles’ second sqwack made the bird wobble again, only this time it fell clean off its perch. It was only thanks to his quick reflexes that allowed Derek to catch the yellow bird before it fell to the floor. “Oops! Shit! Is she alright?"  


Honk ignored Stiles’ worried questions, opting instead to make a valiant effort to crawl under Derek’s long sleeved Henley. Balancing the bird in one palm (Christ, she was a tiny little thing. How old was she even?), Derek tried to pull the bird back but she was determined to at least keep her head hidden under the soft cotton sleeve.  


He eyed the fuzzy butt and the clearly happy wriggling that was going on before sighing and deciding that he’d humor the bird. Clearly Honk wanted to pretend that it was an ostrich instead of a duck. Or at the very least it wanted to avoid dealing with all annoying teenagers. Derek could relate to that last one.  _So much_.  


Sighing slightly, Derek covered the duckling’s body with his free hand before looking up. And found himself being stared at by everyone else. “What?" He asked defensively, hand tightening around the tiny warm body in his palm.  


It was Scott who broke the silence this time. “I think she likes him."  


"Oh come  _on!_ " Stiles whined., throwing his hands up in air in clear exasperation. " _Seriously_? She likes  _you_?"  


Derek rolled his eyes and told himself that he couldn’t cuff Stiles on the head while he was holding the duckling. Who was letting out an odd wheezing noise that either meant that it had respiratory problems or that it was snoring.  


—  


There were several problems that came along with Stiles’ suddenly having a pet duck. Most of them were linked to how the bird had developed a fondness for Derek specifically.   


For example, the multiple times she had waddled up to him in the middle of a pack meeting, sat down on his foot and gone to sleep. Or the way she would quack at him, beady eyes locked on Derek's food in a clear order to share whatever he was eating. And had he mentioned the time Stiles’ had jokingly perched the damn bird on his  _head_?  


Derek  _really_ wished that Stiles’ hadn’t done that because that seemed to be the one thing that could guarantee entertainment for the duckling for at least half an hour. She would sit down and try to chew on his hair, beak threading through the long strands before giving up with a quick shake of the head as though she couldn’t stand the taste of the hair gel.   


He’d tried pawning that particular duty off to Isaac or Erica (what? they both had excellent hair) but Honk would immediately slide down and waddle back up to Derek. Quacking and wriggling her fuzzy butt as she followed him around his loft, eager and happy in his company. The amount of Mama Duck jokes that he had had to put up with from Stiles because of that were just…  


On the bright side, no one had been around the evening where Stiles had shoved duck duty on him and run off out the door (Stiles had yelled something about impromptu lacrosse practice on his way out). Derek couldn’t risk accidentally stepping on the duckling so he had placed the bird on the sofa, where it had been content to rest in the warm sunlight, looking very much like a small ball of fluff.  


But the minute he had started walking upstairs, Honk had woken up with a startled quack. Derek had watched from his higher perch as the duckling hopped off the sofa and waddled up to the foot of the stairs. And then attempted to hop onto the first step. After several failed attempts, and a hell of a lot of sad peeping, Derek had sighed and come back down. He scooped the bird up and put her on top of his head, a spot she stayed in, pleased as punch, until he heard Stiles’ jeep pulling up outside the building. Then he placed the bird back on the sofa and pretended that she’d been there the whole time.  


Another problem was that every time he tried to sneak into Stiles’ room (and admittedly try to scare the teenager), Honk would give the game away by peeping loudly from her corner, waddling up to him with an eager look in her eyes. Just like she was doing right now.  


With a heavy sigh, Derek scooped Honk up and realized that she’d grown heavier. And bigger. “How old is she now?" He asked, figuring that a little small talk before asking for help wouldn’t be a bad thing. And by asking he totally meant just telling Stiles to help him.  


Stiles’ chair let out tiny squeaks every time it complete the half turn that the teenager was making. Left, right, left, right - tight little half circles that were marked with a high pitched squeak. Derek tried not to twitch at every squeak and told himself that dragging Stiles off the chair would not be conducive to his visit. Especially when he wanted his help.  


Maybe later, he promised himself, letting the duck investigate the open pocket of his jacket.   


"Almost 4 weeks now." Stiles replied, pushing himself out of the chair. “C’mon Honk, let the mean alpha alone. Who knows what kind of werewolf cooties you might catch off him. Last thing we need is a wereduck." This was something that happened every time as well.  


Stiles would claim that it wasn’t safe for his precious duckling to be this close to a predator that had so many sharp teeth and steal her away. Which would result in an odd game where Honk would try to make her way back to Derek, with Stiles following after her to prevent her from doing so. Which resulted in several bumps and full body crashes that Derek may or may not have timed just so, making Stiles fall gracelessly into Derek’s body. The teenager would immediately push himself back, falling over on his ass as he apologized and cursed the smug looking duck in equal parts.  


Derek had to stop himself from calling Stiles a baby duckling several times. Not because he was being polite or anything. He was mostly just waiting for the most opportune time where the teasing could have the maximum impact. Like say, when everyone else was around and he was chasing after Honk. Derek was good at biding his time.  


He waited for Stiles to hold his hands out for Honk, staring at him for a long moment before transferring the bird. Honk, for her part, honked angrily at being stopped mid-way her examination of Derek’s jacket pocket. “Lets put you back in you-oh  _son of a bitch!_ ”  


The sudden curse made Derek blink in surprise, ducking down to catch the bird as Stiles suddenly let her go. The sudden and pungent smell of bird shit however, made him want to bark in amusement. Especially when he realized that Honk had just done her business in Stiles’ hands.   


"You are in so much shit, missy." Stiles growled at the bird, who coolly did a full stretch complete with a vigorous flapping of her wings and waddled under the teenage boy’s bed.  


Derek managed to keep the smirk off his face but nothing could stop himself from pointing out, “Actually, I think that’d be you." And when Stiles directed the heated glare at him, a bit of that smirk came out anyways.  


"I could wipe my hands on your jacket." Stiles threatened darkly, holding his hands out. Derek held his hands up, palms outward to demonstrate his surrender. He remained leaning against the windowsill as the teenager stomped out, muttering around making stuffed duck for dinner under his breath.  


A few seconds after his exit, the bird poked its head out to examine it’s surroundings and peeked up at Derek. “You’re a little shit." Derek told Honk as she made her way up to him and sat down on top of his left foot. “I like you." She simply quacked and rubbed her head against the hem of his jeans. 


End file.
